


The Business on Cato Neimoidia

by glitter_glitch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Anakin Skywalker Gets a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Anakin Skywalker, BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Cato Neimoidia, Character Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Force Choking (Star Wars), Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Labyrinth of Evil, Mace is Actually a Decent Human Being in This One, Medical Procedures, Mindfuck, Mystery, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Padmé Amidala Lives, Plot Twists, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Realistic, Sickfic, Star Wars Legends: Labyrinth of Evil, The Business on Cato Neimoidia, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24720028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitter_glitch/pseuds/glitter_glitch
Summary: After what felt like an eternity, Anakin finally disposed of the final droid. He turned his attention to Obi-Wan, who was lying on the floor next to him. He was still unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. Anakin had managed to deflect all blaster bolts successfully.Anakin shook Obi-Wan’s shoulders gently. It’s been about ten minutes since Anakin had put the rebreather in his mouth; he should be waking up any moment now. But he wasn't. And his lips... they looked blue.~The Legends backstory of "the business on Cato Neimoidia" was absolutely awesome, if a bit short. This is my AU version of it, but much darker and angstier. H/C, angst, fluff and major plot twists. Don't worry, no knowledge of the original version is needed.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 136
Kudos: 264





	1. Ninth Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin attempts to capture Nute Gunray in the fortress on Cato Neimoidia, while Obi-Wan creates a diversion. It doesn't go well. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was inspired by the Legends version of “the business on Cato Neimoidia” from the wonderful Labyrinth of Evil novel by James Luceno. Don’t worry, no knowledge of the book is needed.
> 
> Warning: While the Legends version of the Cato Neimoidia incident is fairly light-hearted and funny, my version is considerably darker and more angsty. As usual, poor Obi-Wan is not going to have a good time, and neither is Anakin.
> 
> This story is dedicated to my wonderful beta reader FloatingFoxtrot. You rule!

* * *

**_Cato Neimoidia, final days of the Clone Wars._ **

So far, the plan seemed to be going well. Obi-Wan, Cody, and four clone commandos stormed through another hallway of Nute Gunray’s sprawling fortress, blasting and slicing through every battle droid unfortunate enough to get in their way.

Right now, their mission objective was extremely simple: cause as much mayhem as possible.

Hopefully, the distraction would give Anakin and the rest of Squad 7 the opening they needed to capture the Trade Federation elite, hiding somewhere in the fortress.

With his homeworld threatened and the purse worlds of Deko and Koru Neimoidia devastated, Viceroy Gunray would have been wiser to retreat to the Outer Rim, as other members of the Separatist Council were thought to be doing. But rational thinking had never been a Neimoidian strong suit, especially when possessions remained on Cato Neimoidia that the viceroy apparently couldn't live without.

Backed by a battle group of Federation warships, he had slipped onto Cato Neimoidia, intent on rescuing his precious treasures from the citadel before it fell. But Republic forces had been lying in wait, eager to capture him alive and bring him to justice—thirteen years late, in the judgment of many.

If this mission was successful, Gunray’s capture would deal a major blow to the Separatist Alliance. Perhaps even decide the outcome of the war.

Not to mention that he could provide a very valuable lead on the identity of the mysterious Lord Sidious.

Two commandos fell to fire as Obi-Wan and his team sprinted through yet another hallway, making their way towards the packing and shipping area of the fungus processing plant.

For all their reliance on droids, for all their infatuation with high technology, for all their inborn cowardice, greed, and guile, Neimoidians had a soft spot for their youth—their seven formative years as grubs, struggling for limited food in communal hives, discovering early on the benefits of duplicity and self-regard.

The fungus foodstuff of those early years was as dear to them as adults as it was to them as hatchlings, and no wonder, since it was that same fungus that had found favor with species galaxywide, and from which the Neimoidians had evolved into a wealthy, spacefaring society, with ships enough to attract the eye of the notorious Trade Federation and, ultimately, droids enough to equal an army.

While the fungus itself was quite delicious and completely harmless, its spores were not. Kix, Squad 7’s medic, had warned Obi-Wan and Anakin about them before the mission began. The fungus spores were harmless to Neimoidians, but toxic to humans. In small quantities, inhaling the spores caused confusion, loss of coordination, and mild giddiness; a bit more than that caused unconsciousness. In large amounts, the spores were lethal.

Luckily for the clones, their helmets were made to filter out smoke and most toxins, including the spores; they could even withstand the vacuum of space for a short time. As for Obi-Wan and Anakin, all Jedi carried a standard issue A99 aquata rebreather, capable of providing breathable air for up to two hours.

But theoretically, that shouldn’t be necessary, since all spores in the shipping area were safely enclosed in hermetically sealed shipping containers. As long as the containers remained closed, the air was safe to breathe.

Theoretically.

Once Obi-Wan and his team approached the packing and shipping rooms, they encountered a contingent of super battle droids the Neimoidians had sent to root out the infiltrators.

"Looks like they've taken the bait, General!" Cody said while he, Obi-Wan, and two commandos fought their way into a side room.

"Another successful action! Now we just have to survive it!"

Cody pointed to the entrance to a second room, opposite their present position.

"Through there," he said. "A second bank of turbo-lifts on the far side." He tapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder. "You first. We'll provide cover. Go!"

* * *

As Anakin and the rest of Squad 7 were exiting the grotto, the tip of Anakin’s boot sent some object skittering across the floor. On the fly he used the Force to call the thing to his left hand and realized that it was Obi-Wan's rebreather, which must have fallen from its utility pouch during their earlier exchange with battle droids.

But no matter; Obi-Wan was probably already in the lower levels of the redoubt, where there would be little need for the device.

Opening one of the pouches on his belt, Anakin wedged the rebreather inside.

He urged the troopers on, and they stayed close on his heels.

* * *

Obi-Wan shot for the room, deflecting bolts and mangling two super battle droids that stood in his way. The room beyond was stacked with coffin-sized repulsorlift shipping containers, constructed of some lightweight alloy.

Before the clones could follow him inside, one of the wildly ricocheting bolts tore through one of the shipping containers and fried the control panel of the door behind his back. The door slammed shut, separating him from Cody and the clones.

Wisps of some gauzy white substance began to drift from the damaged container. Obi-Wan instantly knew what the substance was.

He instinctively reached for the pouch on his belt where his rebreather used to be, but it was empty.

More battle droids started marching into the room, firing wildly. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth and leapt into the fray, slicing through the droids and deflecting the flying blaster bolts to the sides, but more droids kept coming.

He was already beginning to feel woozy.

* * *

Anakin’s pursuit of Gunray and his entourage of elite officers was abruptly halted by a closed blast door in his way. The fleeing Neimoidians had closed it behind them in an attempt to slow him down.

“Get that door open!” Anakin barked out.

Two clone commandos nodded tersely and started attaching explosives to the door, while Anakin and the others stepped back. Using his lightsaber to cut through the door would have taken far too long. This method was faster.

"General Skywalker," a commando called from behind him. "Urgent from Commander Cody. He and General Kenobi are pinned down on level one, in the shipping area."

Anakin shot him a questioning look. "By _droids_?"

"A lot of them, apparently."

Anakin compressed his lips. In the strategy meeting they had just before starting the attack, Obi-Wan had emphasised multiple times that they needed to capture Gunray _at all costs_. The outcome of the war could very well depend on it.

But there was no way in hell Anakin was about to abandon his former Master or Cody to their fate. Not in this millennium.

"All right,” Anakin said sharply, drawing his lightsaber. “Squad 7, continue the pursuit. Capture Gunray at all costs. I’m going to rescue them."

* * *

As Anakin sprinted towards the shipping area, he noticed faint wisps of white fog drifting lazily through the air.

 _Kriff. The spores._ One of the containers must have been breached. And Obi-Wan didn’t have his rebreather with him.

Anakin put his own rebreather in his mouth and burst into the room in which Obi-Wan had held his own against better than fifty droids, all of which lay scattered about the room. He was just dealing with the last of them when Anakin entered.

The air was saturated with thick, swirling white mist. It was much worse than just one breached container, Anakin noted with alarm. The ricocheting blaster bolts had damaged at least a dozen of them, perhaps even more.

When the final droid collapsed, Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber and stood swaying in place, breathing hard.

"Anakin," he whispered. His face was worryingly pale despite the exertion, his eyes were wide and unfocused, and he had a strangely confused expression on his face, as if he could no longer even remember where he was or what was happening. But he managed a faint smile anyway. "Glad… to see… you..."

Then his eyes rolled back into his head, and Anakin just barely managed to catch him as he collapsed. His lightsaber slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Anakin gently lowered Obi-Wan to the floor and inserted his rebreather into his mouth.

Cody and the other four commandos were nowhere to be seen. They must have gotten separated during the fight. The destroyed control panel of the other door seemed to support that theory. Luckily, the clone’s helmets were able to filter out the toxins, so if Cody and the others managed to lose the droids, they were probably fine.

The Force whispered a warning. There were more battle droids approaching. Fast.

If Anakin didn’t have to keep his rebreather in his mouth, he would have uttered a few choice words that would have made even a Hutt blush. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough already.

Anakin shook Obi-Wan’s shoulders, trying to rouse him, but there was no response. It was probably going to take him a few minutes to recover from the effects of the toxin.

There wasn’t enough time to hide or run. Anakin dragged his former Master into a corner, rolled him over to his side and pulled his knees up to his chin in order to make the target as small as possible. Then he stood up, holding both of their lightsabers in a defensive stance.

A fresh wave of battle droids burst into the room and started firing.

* * *

Five minutes later, Anakin was _still_ fighting the same kriffing group of droids. He had destroyed at least three dozens of them, but more still kept coming. Normally, he would be leaping from place to place, slashing through them like butter, but not now. He couldn’t move from the spot where he was standing without risking Obi-Wan’s life.

Anakin could only deflect their own fire back at them, which was taking _forever_. He did manage to throw one of the lightsabers a few times, beheading one droid at a time, but it didn’t make much of a difference.

Anakin didn’t even dare to use the Force against the droids. The amount of blasterfire raining upon him was staggering, and reaching into the Force to throw the droids backwards would require more concentration than he could spare right now.

Every now and then, one of the wildly flying blaster bolts would hit another shipping container, releasing even more spores into the air. Thank the Force both of them had their rebreathers. If they hadn’t, breathing such a high concentration of the toxic spores would probably be fatal.

* * *

After what felt like an eternity, Anakin finally disposed of the final droid. He deactivated the lightsabers and collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily. His rebreather had protected him from the toxic spores, but it didn’t provide quite enough air flow for this level of physical exertion. It felt like his lungs were about to explode.

Anakin clipped both lightsabers to his belt and struggled to catch his breath, mentally uttering every curse under the sun. As soon as they returned to Coruscant, he was going to have some _very_ serious words with whatever idiot had approved the A99 aquata model as a part of the standard equipment.

The rebreather was fine for walking or a leisurely swim underwater, but holy kriffing hell, it wasn’t made for fighting. Did they not test those things _at all_? Had the fight lasted just a few minutes longer, this could have gotten him killed. Both of them, actually.

After a moment, Anakin got his breathing somewhat under control and turned his attention to Obi-Wan, who was lying on the floor next to him. He was still unconscious, but otherwise unharmed. Anakin had managed to deflect all blaster bolts successfully. Thank the Force.

Anakin shook Obi-Wan’s shoulders gently. It’s been about ten minutes since Anakin had put the rebreather in his mouth; he should be waking up any moment now.

A part of Anakin was already looking forward to teasing his former Master for having to rescue him for the _ninth_ time—seriously, that number was getting scarily high—and also to giving him a bit of a lecture about losing his rebreather. After all, Obi-Wan never missed _his_ opportunity to lecture Anakin whenever he managed to drop or lose his lightsaber. It was only fair.

But there was no reaction. Nothing at all. Obi-Wan remained completely still, his eyes closed. Anakin shook him again, much more harshly this time. But still, _nothing happened._ Obi-Wan’s body was as limp as a ragdoll. His face was unnaturally pale, almost grey, his lips tinged with blue.

Trying to suppress a rising panic, Anakin lightly pressed two fingers against the side of Obi-Wan’s neck. He could feel a pulse, but it was worryingly fast and weak. Something was terribly wrong, Anakin could sense it. And then…

_Oh, Force. Oh no._

With absolute horror, Anakin realized what had happened. The rebreather didn’t help Obi-Wan much, if at all. A person needed to intentionally breathe through their mouth for it to be effective, which was impossible while unconscious. He must have been breathing that toxic stuff the whole time.

There was another warning in the Force; there were more droids approaching. A _lot_ more. But they were still a minute or two away.

It was now or never.

Anakin slung his former Master’s limp body over his shoulder and ran out of the room, begging the Force to guide him. It led him to a small storage room a few hallways away; judging from the thin layer of dust on the floor, it wasn’t used often, if at all. Anakin ran in and slammed the door shut behind them.

Just in time.

Only seconds later, the new wave of droids rounded the corner and marched past the closed door they were hiding behind. Anakin stood completely still, not daring to move a muscle, until the sound of their clanking footsteps disappeared in the distance. Only then did he spit out his rebreather—luckily, the air in here was clean and safe to breathe—and lowered Obi-Wan to the ground.

“Wake up,” Anakin whispered, gently removing the useless rebreather from Obi-Wan’s mouth and shaking him. “It’s all right, you can breathe now. The air here is clean. Come on. Wake up. Please.”

But it quickly became clear that Obi-Wan’s condition wasn’t improving at all. In fact, it was getting even worse. Perhaps it was just the different lighting, but his fingernails and lips looked even more blue now. Before, it was more of a pale purple, but now, it was an ominous greyish blue. That was a bad sign. _Very_ bad.

And when Anakin placed his hand on his chest to feel his breathing, he could only detect very tiny, shallow gasps for air. There was almost no air moving in or out. Not enough to survive.

Anakin clenched his fists, desperately trying to keep himself from panicking. That wouldn’t help anyone right now.

Perhaps not everything was lost yet. If he helped Obi-Wan take a few deep breaths and get the poisoned air out of his lungs, perhaps he still had a fighting chance. Anakin gently tilted Obi-Wan’s head backwards, plugged his nose and tried to breathe some air into his mouth.

But it wasn’t working— _It wasn’t working—_

For some reason, not even Anakin could force any air into his lungs, no matter how much strength he tried to use. That toxic stuff must have done some kind of damage to Obi-Wan’s lungs. Anakin had no idea what exactly it was, but it didn’t matter.

He wasn’t going to make it.

There simply wasn’t enough time. Even if Anakin called for medevac right now, it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get there. That was assuming they didn’t get lost on their way through the labyrinthine hallways of the fortress, that they would have no problems flying through the violent battle which was still raging in the upper atmosphere, _and_ that they weren’t already deployed somewhere else. A more realistic estimate would be twenty-five to thirty minutes, or even more.

Obi-Wan wasn’t going to last that long. Anakin could sense it. He was dying. He had only minutes left. Two, maybe three. No more.

It was over.

 _No,_ Anakin thought, furiously wiping tears from his face. It wasn’t over _yet_ . He couldn’t let it end like this. He _wouldn’t_ let it end like this. There had to be _something_ he could still do.

But precious seconds ticked by, and no ideas were coming.

 _Help me,_ Anakin begged the Force. _Please, help me figure something out. Please…_

The Force, of course, didn’t answer.

Anakin desperately looked around the small room, looking for… something. An idea. Anything. The room was empty except for some boxes which were also empty, apart from a thin layer of dust. Not helpful. Anakin groaned, burying his face in his hands. _Think, you idiot. Think…_

Anakin’s gaze fell on something on the floor. The rebreather he had dropped and written off as useless.

Anakin’s fingers trembled uncontrollably as he picked it back up and flipped it over. There were three tiny switches on the bottom side, marked with miniature Aurebesh letters. H, N, O.

Hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen. Settings. Right now, the rebreather was set to 0%, 79%, 21%, the usual output setting for humans. Anakin changed it to 0%, 0%, 100%. It was going to make it run out five times faster, but that didn’t matter. He had two of those things, one full and the other one almost full.

Anakin put the rebreather back into Obi-Wan’s mouth and pinched his nose with his fingers, to make sure he _had to_ breathe through his mouth.

It worked. Holy kriff, _it worked_ . Anakin could see the difference almost immediately. Obi-Wan still couldn’t get much air into his lungs, but at five times the oxygen concentration, the little bit of air he was able to get was enough to keep him alive, just barely. Anakin could _see_ a tiny bit of healthy color returning to his former Master’s face.

It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was a pretty damn good temporary one. At least it bought them some time. About forty minutes, Anakin estimated, after doing some quick mental math. That could be enough time for the medevac to get there.

Anakin unclipped his comlink from his belt, his hands shaking so badly that it took him several attempts to do it. But before he could call Cody or the cruiser, there was another call incoming. From the rest of Squad 7.

“General Skywalker, we have good news,” one of the clone commandos said, the excitement in his voice clearly audible even through the low-quality transmission. “We have captured Nute Gunray, Rune Haako, and the rest of their entourage. I repeat. Gunray has been captured. We have won.”

* * *

Roughly fifty minutes later, Anakin was sitting in a shuttle heading towards the cruiser, with his head buried in his hands. Obi-Wan was lying on the floor of the shuttle next to him, pale and unresponsive, with Kix holding an oxygen mask pressed against his face. Coric, the medic from Squad 8, injected something into his arm, but without any noticeable effect.

He was barely alive, but… _alive_. Against all odds, Anakin’s desperate improvisation actually kept him alive long enough for help to arrive.

That being said, the thirty-five minute wait was the longest and the most torturous thing Anakin had ever experienced. He wouldn’t wish it even upon his worst enemy. Not even Dooku. Anakin had spent the entire time holding Obi-Wan’s hand, desperately begging him to hold on. Knowing that if his condition got even a tiny bit worse at any point, he would die, and there wouldn’t be anything Anakin would be able to do about it. Luckily, that didn’t happen. But his condition didn’t get any better, either.

Not to mention the fact that they had cut it _really_ close, time-wise. By the time the medics finally showed up, Anakin’s rebreather was completely empty and Obi-Wan’s only had a couple of minutes of oxygen remaining in it. _Minutes._

Most clone troopers and all of the prisoners were still on the planet’s surface, waiting for more shuttles to arrive. Overseeing the evacuation was technically Anakin’s job, but Commander Cody had offered to take over, which Anakin gratefully accepted.

Cody was so exhausted that he could barely walk, but thankfully unharmed. After getting separated from Obi-Wan, the super battle droids had chased Cody and the two surviving commandos across half of the fortress. They had to sprint the whole way to survive.

As soon as the shuttle docked with the cruiser, Coric and Kix rushed Obi-Wan to the cruiser’s medbay, with Anakin running behind them. Anakin supposed that he must have looked really pale, because Kix sternly ordered him to stay where he was and sit down, but Anakin ignored him. He was _fine_. He wasn’t the one who was in mortal danger right now.

Coric and Kix moved Obi-Wan from the stretcher to one of the beds, not very gently. There was no time for that. Coric pulled his sleeve back and inserted a long needle into the crook of his arm, while Kix tilted his head back and started to insert some kind of a breathing tube into his throat.

Then Kix seemed to notice that Anakin was still there, shoved him out of the door and slammed the door shut in his face. Anakin tried to open it, but he didn’t have the authorization code.

Anakin looked around angrily, trying to locate the nearest medic and demand to be let in. As Obi-Wan’s second in command, he was currently in command of the entire fleet, _including_ the medics, despite their tendency to ignore that.

But before he could make a single step, the hallway seemed to tilt and lurch strangely. Did something happen to the gravity generators? No, Anakin realized quickly, as his vision started to blur. It was just him.

Dimly, he could hear someone yelling at him to sit down, which was probably a smart idea. Anakin clumsily tried to sit down, but his limbs were refusing to obey him properly. _No, I can’t pass out,_ Anakin thought desperately, struggling to stay conscious. _Not now. Not… now…_

And then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I swear on my life that I didn’t originally intend to put a cliffhanger here! This chapter ended up being longer than I expected, so I had to split it somewhere. Sorry!
> 
> A few paragraphs in this chapter were taken directly from the book, or with only minor intentional changes. All other chapters are written 100% by me.
> 
> I hope you like this new story. As always, please leave a review on your way out! :)


	2. Cowards and Traitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin wakes up, lots of angst ensues, and he tries to interrogate Gunray. And by interrogate, I mean Force choke until he starts cooperating. Well, this _is_ potential Vader we're talking about...

Anakin woke up to someone shaking him.

“Ugh, no… let me sleep…” he groaned groggily, slapping the annoying hands away. His mind felt sluggish, foggy. Force, he was so tired. With the war effort growing more intense and desperate with every passing month, he was so sleep-deprived that it wasn’t even funny anymore. He considered himself lucky if he could get three or four hours of sleep per night.

 _Just five more minutes,_ Anakin thought desperately. The bed felt so nice and warm. There was a vague _something_ nagging in the very back of Anakin’s mind, a fuzzy memory of something being terribly wrong, but he was still too out of it to remember what it was.

Whoever was trying to wake him up was insistent. The hands shook him again, more harshly this time.

“Sir?” someone asked. It was a clone’s voice.

Anakin groaned and gave up, dragging his eyes open. He winced as the too bright lights assaulted his eyes. He found himself lying not in his own bed, but in the cruiser’s medbay, with Kix standing over him.

 _Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,_ Anakin thought groggily. _How did I manage to hurt myself this time?_

And then it all came back in a blinding, horrifying flash. _The mission. Gunray. The spores. Obi-Wan._

Anakin sat up with a horrified gasp, fully awake now. He ignored Kix’s attempt to push him back down.

“Kix,” Anakin whispered. “Obi-Wan. Is… is he…?”

“Relax, sir. He’s alive. Unconscious, but stable for now.”

Anakin closed his eyes in relief, although he knew that it didn’t mean much. _Stable_ was pretty much just another word for _not actively dying at the moment_. It didn’t mean that he was getting any better.

“The mission?”

“The evacuation went smoothly, and all prisoners are safely locked in their cells aboard the cruiser. We have been ordered to deliver them to Coruscant as soon as possible. Our fleet jumped to hyperspace just a few minutes ago. ETA seventeen standard hours, sir.”

“Good,” Anakin mumbled.

The Jedi Healers in the Temple were the best in the entire galaxy. If there was anyone who could save Obi-Wan’s life, it was them. That being said, there was no guarantee that they would be able to help. They could mend cuts, burns and broken bones much faster than was natural, but even they couldn't do miracles.

Anakin reached for the IV in his arm to detach it, but Kix grabbed his wrist before he could touch it.

“Don’t even think about it, General. One of my men found you lying on the floor, unconscious. You’re dehydrated, severely sleep-deprived, and you’ve inhaled a bit of the spores as well, although not enough to cause any serious damage. You _also_ have a mild concussion from bashing your head against the floor. Commander Cody gave me strict orders to not let you leave this room.”

Anakin frowned. “Then it’s a good thing that I outrank both of you. Let me go, Kix. That’s an order.”

Kix sighed and released Anakin’s arm. He didn’t look too happy about this, but the chain of command was the chain of command.

Anakin pulled the needle out, hissing with pain, and pressed his fingers against the crook of his elbow to stop the bleeding. With a sigh, Kix handed him a small bacta patch, which Anakin stuck to the spot where the needle had been. Anakin pulled his sleeve down and he swung his feet over the side of the bed, waiting for the sudden wave of dizziness to pass.

“Take it easy, sir,” Kix warned him. “If you collapse again, I _will_ drag you back here and cuff you to the bed, I promise you that.”

It was an empty threat, since Anakin could easily free himself from any cuffs with the Force, but it was probably in his best interest to keep his mouth shut right now.

Anakin stood up carefully, wincing as the movement sent a wave of pulsing pain through his temples, but other than that, he felt fine. Even if he had inhaled some spores—probably from taking a few accidental breaths through his nose while fighting the battle droids—it wasn’t enough to do any real damage.

Finding Obi-Wan’s room wasn’t too difficult. Anakin could sense him through the Force—his Force presence was worryingly weak, but that was to be expected. Anakin gasped with horror as he walked in.

His former Master was lying in the bed, deathly still, surrounded by a terrifying number of machines, tubes and wires. Anakin only recognized a few of them. Obi-Wan’s lips and nails still had that blue tinge to them, a bit fainter now, but still noticeable. There was a thick breathing tube sticking out of his mouth, attached to a machine which breathed for him.

Anakin was almost glad that he wasn’t conscious; it looked terribly uncomfortable. The tube was made out of clear plastic, but Anakin could see something inside of it. A bit of some kind of a pink foam, which looked like a mix of mucus and blood. _Holy kriff._ And Anakin noticed that the artificial breaths were still extremely quick and shallow, as if the machine was unable to push much air into his lungs.

Kix entered the room behind Anakin, sighing heavily. “Sir, we did some research on the spores, but I’m afraid that there is no antidote. At this point, we can only help him breathe as much as we can, and wait. Either he will make it through, or he won’t. There’s not much we can do now.”

Anakin winced. That was very bad news.

“The spores have done some serious damage to his lungs, I’m afraid,” Cody continued. “The poison in the spores damages the alveoli—the parts of lungs where the exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide takes place,” he added as an answer to Anakin’s unspoken question.

“The damage can heal over time, so if he survives the first few days, he should make a full recovery. But that’s a really big if.”

Anakin nodded, grateful for the medic’s brutal honesty, painful as it was.

“But that doesn’t explain why his breathing is so shallow,” Anakin said. Perhaps the medics were wrong. Perhaps there was something they missed.

“Kix, when I found him, I tried to breathe for him, but I _couldn’t_ , no matter how much force I tried to use. I could barely push any air in. As if there was something blocking it. Perhaps there’s fluid in his lungs, or maybe he threw up at some point and inhaled that, or something else. Something we can _fix_.”

Kix gave him a sad, understanding look. “I wish that was so, sir. But we already looked inside his lungs. There’s nothing besides a tiny bit of mucus and blood, but not enough to cause any issues with breathing. The damage also causes swelling as the body tries to repair itself. So much that there’s no room left for the actual air. And there’s nothing we can do about that. The medication helped with that a little bit, but not much.”

Anakin nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. But then he got another idea.

“Kix, about the antidote… I have an idea. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try. Gunray grew up on that shithole of a planet. If there is some kind of secret antidote or treatment that’s not in the database, he’ll know about it. I’m going to talk to him. If anything about Obi-Wan’s condition changes—for the better or the worse—please let me know immediately.”

Kix nodded. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

Anakin found Viceroy Nute Gunray sitting in his cell, his hands cuffed behind his back, guarded by two clone troopers standing outside of the cell. They gave Anakin a curt nod, let him inside and closed the force field behind him.

Well, at least there was a single positive thing to this whole situation. Neimoidians were cowards. It was their nature. It wasn’t an insult; merely a simple biological fact. Theoretically, the interrogation shouldn’t be too difficult.

Viceroy Nute Gunray looked visibly nervous, his skin a nauseated pale pink instead of the usual healthy grey-green hue. But as Anakin sat in the empty chair opposite of him, the Viceroy gave him a defiant sneer.

“Welcome, Skywalker. Tell me, is your Jedi friend dead yet?” Gunray cackled. “He didn’t look so good when I saw the clones carrying him to the shuttle. And you’re still carrying his lightsaber. I’ve heard that Jedi never part with their lightsabers unless they kick the—”

Gunray gasped and grabbed his throat, desperately trying to pull away the invisible hand grasping his neck.

“No,” Anakin hissed through gritted teeth. “He’s still alive. And I don’t have time for your stupid little games, Gunray. It doesn’t feel good, does it? Being unable to breathe. Your fate is now linked with his. If he dies, I’ll make sure you die in the same way. But much more slowly. And unlike him, you’ll be conscious the entire time.”

The Viceroy clawed at his throat, shaking his head, his reptilian eyes bulging, but Anakin refused to release him. He held him for a full minute before finally letting go. Gunray collapsed to his knees, coughing, gasping, and dry heaving.

“Now, Viceroy,” Anakin said coldly. “You will tell me everything you know about the spores, and if there is an antidote. If you don’t, I’ll do this again. And again and again, until you break.”

“No…!” Gunray gasped as Anakin lifted his hand again. “No, please don’t! I’ll talk, I’ll talk, I swear! I’ll tell you everything, I swear it on my life. Just don’t do that again!”

Anakin nodded, lowering his hand. Gunray took a few terrified breaths before continuing.

“I’m sorry, Skywalker. But you’re wasting your time here. There is no antidote. If your friend inhaled too much of the spores, then he’s as good as dead. There’s nothing anyone can do to save him. That’s the truth. That’s the truth, I swear it!”

“Thank you, Viceroy,” Anakin said quietly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He could sense the truth in Gunray’s words. He wasn’t lying.

Anakin stood up and gave the clones a small nod. They opened the force field, letting him out of the cell, and closed it behind him as soon as he walked out.

* * *

Anakin cast another desperate glance at the chrono, wishing the damn cruiser could go faster. They were five hours and fourteen minutes from Coruscant now.

Obi-Wan’s condition was getting worse, very slowly but inevitably. The oxygen levels in his blood had dropped by another few percent since their jump to hyperspace. Anakin could _feel_ his presence in the Force growing weaker with each passing hour. Time was running out.

“Hold on,” Anakin whispered desperately. “Please. Just a few more hours. We’re almost there.”

There was no response. Not that Anakin expected one. It was impossible to be conscious with oxygen levels that low. Anakin gave his cold fingers a gentle squeeze before letting go and burying his face in his hands.

“This is my fault,” Anakin whispered quietly.

When he found Obi-Wan’s rebreather on the ground, he should have let him know immediately. Anakin thought his former Master’s team was planning to go to a different area of the fortress, where there was no danger of the spores. He _remembered_ Cody saying that they were heading to a different area. They must have changed their minds on the way.

But that was no excuse. Anakin should have given him a call anyway, just in case. It would have saved his life.

Or when the battle droids attacked. It took Anakin _ten minutes_ to destroy them. If he had found a way to do it faster…

Suddenly, the Force practically _screamed_ at him, abruptly yanking him out of his thoughts. Half a second later, the heart monitor let out a long, high-pitched wail.

_No… oh, Force, no…_

Anakin pressed the call light, but Kix and Coric were already running through the door. Kix harshly shoved Anakin out of the way, pulled Obi-Wan’s pillow out from under his head and pushed the blankets to the side. He started pressing on Obi-Wan’s chest, putting his entire weight into it. The machine was already breathing for him, so at least they didn’t have to worry about that.

There was a sharp, sickeningly loud crack, then another two. Anakin felt nauseous. He remembered what Bant Eerin told him during his first aid training, as if it was yesterday— _if you’re not breaking ribs, you’re not doing it correctly_ —but that did nothing to prepare him for how horrific it sounded in real life.

Anakin took a few shaky steps backwards to give Kix and Coric space and stood there helplessly, unsure of what to do.

“Out of the way, Kix,” Coric barked out, pushing Kix aside. He pulled Obi-Wan’s shirt open and attached two electrodes to his chest. Both medics took a step back and Coric pressed the button. Obi-Wan’s body flinched violently and then went limp.

The alarm continued wailing. _It didn’t work_ , Anakin realized with horror, as Kix started CPR again and Coric stepped back, waiting for the machine to recharge.

The second shock didn’t work either. Neither did the third, or the fourth.

As Kix slightly moved to the side, Anakin caught a brief glimpse of Obi-Wan’s face, just for a second. It terrified him. With his heart no longer working, all blood had drained away from his face, leaving it deathly pale. His eyes were half-open and unblinking, staring at nothing, his pupils oddly wide.

Fifth attempt. Nothing.

With alarm, Anakin noticed that Obi-Wan’s arms were unnaturally stiff at his sides, his hands clenched into fists. A violent muscle spasm from the lack of oxygen.

Sixth attempt. It wasn’t working. _It wasn’t working_...

Coric hesitated and gave Kix a meaningful look. “Kix, I really don’t think that—”

“Shut up. Keep trying,” Kix barked out.

At this point, Anakin could tell that they were only keeping this up for his sake, not out of an actual hope that it might still work. He could see it in their eyes. They didn’t want Anakin to think that they gave up too soon.

Seventh attempt. Eighth. Nothing.

That was when Kix finally gave up as well. He turned to face Anakin, his eyes filled with quiet sorrow. “Sir… I’m so sorry… but this isn’t going to work.”

Anakin shook his head desperately. “No,” he whispered. “A few more tries. Please. _Please_.”

Kix and Coric gave him pitying looks, but did as he said.

Ninth shock. Tenth. Eleventh.

The eleventh one worked.

Obi-Wan’s heart started beating normally again. The alarm went silent, the frantic electronic shrieks turning into slow, steady beeps. A tiny bit of color returned to his face. A few seconds later, his arms and clenched fists slowly relaxed.

“Holy kriff,“ Coric breathed out, taking a shaky step back. “Holy. Kriff. Eleven tries. _Eleven_. I’ve never seen anyone live after four.”

He turned around, suddenly remembering Anakin’s presence. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to phrase it _that_ way—”

Anakin shook his head, wanting to say something, to thank him, but he couldn’t speak. His tongue refused to obey him, and his legs suddenly felt very weak as well. Anakin barely made it to a chair before his knees gave out. He buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking uncontrollably.

He was suddenly very glad that he hadn’t eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours. If he had, he would have probably thrown up right there and then.

“It’s all right, sir,” Kix said, his voice unexpectedly gentle. He placed a warm hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “It’s all right. He’s alive. That’s what matters.”

Coric detached the electrodes from Obi-Wan’s chest and pulled his eyelids back, shining a bright light into his eyes. Then he gently closed his eyelids again. He said nothing, but he looked relieved.

“Thank you,” Anakin breathed out shakily. “Thank you. Both of you. But, Kix… if this happens again, before we reach Coruscant… he’s not going to make it, is he?”

Kix gave him a sorrowful look. “No. If his heart stops again, I don’t think we’ll be able to bring him back this time.”

Anakin nodded miserably; he already suspected as much. He glanced at the chrono. Four hours and fifty-three minutes to go. The next five hours were going to be the longest hours of his life.

* * *

One hour and forty-eight minutes to Coruscant.

Anakin was gently holding Obi-Wan’s right hand in both of his own and staring at the chrono, as if he could make it go any faster with his mind.

It was three hours later, and his former Master was still alive, miraculously. His heart rate was still way too fast, but steady. And what was more, his oxygen levels had improved by a few percent. Perhaps not everything was lost yet. Perhaps he still had a fighting chance.

There were running footsteps outside. Half a second later, Commander Cody burst into the room, nearly giving Anakin a heart attack. 

“General Skywalker, I have to talk to you.”

“Of course, Cody. What is it?” Anakin asked. The Commander was sweaty and breathing heavily, as if he ran all the way there. It _had_ to be something important.

“Sir, what in the world did you do to Gunray?”

Anakin’s stomach dropped. Oh, kriff. The interrogation method he used was… well, _frowned upon_ by the Jedi Council, to put it mildly.

Anakin sighed. “I didn’t hurt him. Well… all right, I kind of did, but nothing permanent. I was just trying to scare him a little. I know it wasn’t the _right_ way to do things, but I did what I had to do. I’ll apologize to the Council later.”

Cody stared at him, very confused. “Apologize? No, sir… whatever you did, they want to thank you.”

This time, it was Anakin’s turn to be completely bewildered. “What?”

“Sir, I was just interrogating him, standard stuff. What was he doing on Cato Neimoidia, where he was planning to escape to, usual questions like that. He wasn’t being very cooperative at first, but then I tried to bluff a little. I told him that if he didn’t cooperate, I was going to bring you to _make_ him talk.”

Cody almost laughed.

“General, I have no idea what you did or said to him before, but he started freaking out. He said he’d tell me anything I wanted to know, as long as I kept _you_ away from him. He said that his plan was to flee to Utapau, where the rest of the Separatist Council was already hiding.”

Anakin stared at him, his eyes wide. “You’re kidding, right?”

The Republic intelligence had been trying to locate the Separatist leaders for _three years_ , without any success...

“Sir, I assure you that I am not. I already informed the Jedi Council about this. They’re sending a massive fleet to Utapau immediately, under the command of Master Yoda himself. If the Republic forces manage to capture the Separatist leaders–"

“The war could be over in days,” Anakin finished for him in a near-whisper. “In _hours._ ”

“Sir... there’s something else," Cody said. "I also asked the Viceroy why he was stupid enough to risk returning to the fortress. He confessed that he came back for his treasures, including some kind of a mechno-chair with a built-in holographic transceiver, which he used for secure communication with his master, someone he called ‘Lord Sidious’. He was terrified of the transceiver falling into the enemy’s hands. Sir, does that name mean anything to you?”

For a few seconds, Anakin just stared at him, completely speechless.

“Yes, Commander,” he whispered finally. “It does. Cody, you need to go back there _immediately_ and ask him what Sidious's true name is. It's important.”

There was a hint of pride in Cody's voice as he answered.

“Sir, I don't have to ask him anything. He already told me. He said it was Chancellor Palpatine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnn!!
> 
> As always, please leave a review on your way out! They feed my dark, evil soul! :)


	3. Victory and Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karma bites Palpatine in the ass, hard. Also Mace is surprisingly nice in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of this chapter is a tribute to a wonderful TCW episode with the same name, which actually happens fairly close to this chapter, timeline-wise. Of course, the plot is completely different, and since this is Legends, there is no Ahsoka, Maul or Rex. But the title still fits. Enjoy!

* * *

The cruiser was just ten minutes from Coruscant now.

“We need to act quickly,” Master Windu’s hologram in Anakin’s palm  urged, followed by a sigh. “I wish we hadn’t sent Master Yoda to Utapau. We could really use his help. But there’s nothing we can do about that now. I’m taking three of the Order’s best swordsmen with me. We’ll meet you in front of the Senate Building in fifteen minutes. Hurry.”

“Yes, Master Windu.” The hologram disappeared.

Anakin cast a worried glance at Obi-Wan’s deathly still form. He was still clinging to life, just barely. Every part of Anakin’s mind was screaming at him to not leave his side. Telling him that if he left now, he might never see his friend alive again. But he had no choice. If the prophecy was correct, Anakin was the only one who could defeat Sidious.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Master,” Anakin whispered in a shaking voice, and squeezed his hand. It felt cold and clammy. “Just hold on until then. Please.”

* * *

Darth Sidious was sitting in his chair in the Chancellor’s private office, his eyes closed in deep meditation. Something was wrong, he could sense it. But the Force refused to tell him exactly what it was.

The door behind his back opened and five Jedi marched in without knocking. Sidious opened his eyes and turned around. He could tell why they were here as soon as he saw the expressions on their faces.

_ NO...!  _ It was too soon. Skywalker wasn’t ready to join him yet.

“In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you’re under arrest, Chancellor,” Master Windu declared gravely, igniting his lightsaber. “You’re accused of collaborating with the Separatists and orchestrating this war.”

The other four Jedi activated their sabers as well.

Sidious fumed. Someone had betrayed him. Either Dooku or one of those cowardly Neimoidians. No matter. As soon as he disposed of the Jedi, he was going to find the traitor and kill him, slowly and painfully.

Skywalker would need to die, too. It was a pity, but Sidious could live with that. The boy would have been a valuable servant, but he wasn’t essential for Sidious’s plans.

“Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?” Sidious hissed.

“The Senate will decide your fate.”

Darth Sidious bared his teeth. “I _ am _ the Senate.”

“Not yet.”

Sidious flicked his wrist. The concealed lightsaber dropped out of his sleeve and into his hand.

“It’s treason, then,” he growled softly, and attacked.

* * *

Less than a minute after the fight began, it was already going horribly wrong. Kit Fisto, Saesee Tiin and Agen Kolar were all lying dead on the floor, and only Anakin and Mace Windu were still alive and fighting.

Anakin screamed as the tip of Sidious’s blade grazed his right arm, leaving behind a long, excruciatingly painful gash. The red blade also glanced against the hilt of his lightsaber a little, slicing the ring tuning flange right off. Thankfully, it still seemed to be working fine.

The injury to Anakin’s arm wasn’t deep, but it was enough to render his right arm useless for the rest of the fight. His lightsaber fell out of his fingers and clattered to the floor.

Only Master Windu’s quick counter-attack saved Anakin from dying right there and then. He deflected the blow that would have ended Anakin’s life and went on the offensive, pushing Sidious towards the window to give Anakin a few seconds to recover.

Hissing in pain, Anakin called the lightsaber to his left hand. He was really glad that Obi-Wan always made him practice with both hands equally. Anakin would need to thank him when he woke up. _ If  _ he woke up…

No, no there was no time for such thoughts now.

Master Windu deflected another vicious attack and his blade accidentally glanced against the window, which shattered. Windu and Sidious exchanged several brutal blows, and then Windu actually managed to kick Sidious’s saber out of his hand. It flew out of the broken window and disappeared in the darkness.

Anakin leaped forward, gripping his lightsaber in his left hand—now was their chance, the best opening they’ve had so far—but Sidious wasn’t helpless yet. He cackled madly and shot a torrent of blinding lighting towards Anakin and Windu. They lifted their blades just barely fast enough to block it.

Windu’s saber held, but Anakin’s didn’t. That glancing blow must have done  _ some  _ damage to it after all.

The blue blade flickered and disappeared with a puff of acrid smoke. The full force of the lightning hit square Anakin in the chest, throwing him to the floor and making him howl in agony. The broken lightsaber fell out of his spasming fingers, rolled across the carpet, and exploded.

The lightning continued. Anakin thrashed on the floor, his body convulsing violently. Someone was screaming, so horribly that it didn’t even sound human. It took Anakin a few seconds to realize that it was him. The pain was beyond anything he had ever imagined. He was completely helpless, just like he was three years ago against Dooku. But Dooku’s lightning was _ nothing _ compared to this.

Unexpectedly, the pain stopped. Anakin lay on the floor, gasping, shaking, dry heaving, and barely conscious. When he managed to open his eyes, he could see why Sidious let him go. The Sith Lord was now concentrating all of his lightning on Windu to kill him while Anakin was incapacitated.

Which, unfortunately, he was. He didn’t even have the strength to wipe away the tears of pain slowly rolling down his temples. It would take at least ten minutes before he would be able stand up again. Master Windu was on his own.

Windu was still holding his own against the deadly stream of lightning. Both opponents were locked in a brutal battle of strengths, their faces contorted into terrible grimaces of pain and exertion. Some of the lightning was flowing past Windu’s blade and hitting his body, but Sidious was in trouble, too. Mace Windu was deflecting some of the lightning back at Sidious’s own face.

The Sith Lord’s features were contorting horrifically, as they were melting. Anakin wasn’t sure if the lightning was injuring him or merely revealing his true appearance. Not that it mattered.

But despite that, it was Master Windu who was losing. His strength was quickly running out and Sidious’s lightning was slowly pushing his purple blade closer and closer towards his own body.

“Anakin, help!” Master Windu called out desperately, his voice tight with pain and effort. “I can’t hold him off for much longer! Help me!”

Anakin tried to get back up, he really tried, with all strength he had still left. But it wasn’t enough. His body was still incapacitated by the lightning. His muscles were shaking too badly to even lift his head from the floor.

Something was digging into his back painfully. Anakin rolled to his side with a pained groan and grabbed the offending object. His fingers closed around something cylindrical and metallic.

Obi-Wan’s lightsaber.

It was still clipped to the back of Anakin’s belt. He had forgotten to return it after borrowing it in Gunray’s fortress.

Master Windu screamed in horrible pain as Sidious finally overpowered him. A powerful burst of lightning pushed Mace Windu’s blade backwards _ into _ his own body, nearly slicing him in half. He collapsed to his knees, his eyes rolling back into his head. His lightsaber fell out of his hand.

It was over. Anakin didn’t need the Force to know that this was a mortal injury. Windu had only a few seconds left to live.

Sidious cackled cruelly and kicked Master Windu’s deactivated lightsaber out of the shattered window.

“I win,  _ Jedi _ ,” he hissed.

And in that exact moment, while Darth Sidious was still distracted with mocking the dying Jedi Master, Anakin gathered the last bits of his strength to ignite Obi-Wan’s lightsaber and throw it at Sidious’s head as hard as he could.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as the lightsaber spun through the air.

Sidious whirled around, desperately trying to duck out of the way, but he couldn’t. Mace Windu used his final moments to grab him with the Force and slow him down just enough for the flying saber to hit its mark.

The blue blade sliced through Sidious’s neck, cutting his head clean off.

Sidious’s knees buckled and his headless body slowly collapsed to the ground. His Force presence imploded and disappeared, and the spinning lightsaber returned to Anakin’s hand.

It was over.

Master Windu’s Force presence quietly faded away just a few seconds later.

Anakin closed his eyes, breathing heavily. He lay there helplessly for several minutes before a bit of his strength returned and the shaking finally subsided.

Then he painfully climbed to his feet, clipping Obi-Wan’s lightsaber back to his belt. Anakin checked the remains of his own lightsaber to see if some parts of it could be salvaged, but there was no luck. Even the precious Ilum crystal was shattered into a thousand pieces.

There were sirens in the distance, quickly getting closer. Someone must have noticed the ruckus and called the police. Anakin decided that he should probably leave as soon as he could. He _ did _ just murder the Supreme Chancellor of the entire kriffing Republic.

He did the right thing, since the ‘Chancellor’ had been collaborating with the Separatists all along, and Gunray’s confession was going to prove that. But that was going to take a few hours, or even days. If he stayed here, he had a very solid chance of getting shot on sight.

Anakin limped back to the ship and flew to the Jedi Temple as fast as he could.


	4. Good and Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin gets some really good news, but also some really bad ones.

Anakin burst into the Healer's Ward in the Temple, easily finding Obi-Wan's room by simply following his faint presence in the Force. He was still alive, although still unresponsive. He didn't seem to be doing any better than the last time Anakin saw him.

Anakin collapsed into a chair next to Obi-Wan's bed, cradling his injured arm. His fingers were shaking uncontrollably.

The door opened and a silver-eyed Mon Calamari walked in. Bant Eerin, one of the Temple's best Healers and one of Obi-Wan's closest friends.

She frowned. "Skywalker, you're not allowed in here— _oh, Force, what happened to your arm?!_ "

"It's nothing," Anakin mumbled absent-mindedly. The cut stung like hell, but it was _nothing_ compared to how much the lightning had hurt. It was no more than a scratch, in the greater scheme of things. A very small price to pay for defeating the last Lord of the Sith.

"I'll be the judge of that," Bant huffed, but then her expression softened, just a little. "Relax, Anakin. He seems to be doing a bit better now. We were able to heal a bit of the damage to his lungs. Not much, but enough to give him a fighting chance."

Anakin cast a worried glance at Obi-Wan. He didn't _look_ much better. His lips looked a bit less blue now, but his breaths were still as shallow and labored as before.

"Doesn't look like it," Anakin mumbled, frowning. He winced, fully expecting to be kicked out of here for mouthing off like that, but Bant only gave him a sympathetic look.

"I know it must look scary, Anakin. But I'll show you something. See that number on this screen over here? In the upper left corner—yes, there. It's the percentage of oxygen in his blood. It's still dangerously low, but it's a bit higher than it was half an hour ago. That's a good sign. He _is_ getting better, Anakin. Even if it doesn't look like it right now."

Anakin briefly closed his eyes in relief.

Bant frowned. "Now, as I asked before, _what happened to your arm_? Is that… from a _lightsaber…?_ "

"Yes," was his clipped answer.

Seeing her horrified reaction, Anakin added, "We discovered that Chancellor Palpatine was the other Sith Lord. I went to apprehend him with four Council Masters, but he fought back. Brutally. In the end, I managed to kill him, but I was the only survivor. Which reminds me: we should probably send someone to recover the bodies."

" _What?!_ Palpatine, a Sith Lord?!"

Anakin chuckled mirthlessly. "When we came to arrest him, he pulled a lightsaber out of his sleeve, killed Master Kolar with a single strike and started shooting lightning out of his fingers. So, _yes_ , I'm pretty sure it was him."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Anakin was a bit amused by the mix of sheer confusion and disbelief on her face.

"Huh," Bant mumbled. "Interesting. I'll have to admit that I didn't see that coming. The Chancellor seemed like such a nice person."

 _Yes,_ Anakin thought bitterly. _I thought that, too. We all did._

Anakin felt _sick_ as he remembered all those times he had spilled his deepest secrets to that two-faced son of a Hutt. He told him about his secret relationship with Padme, about his disdain for the Council, about all of his petty arguments with Obi-Wan . He told that bastard about _everything_.

"Now, as for _you_ , Skywalker," Bant said, her voice returning to her usual sharp tone that allowed no objections.

" _You_ look like you're about to collapse any second now. You're pale as a ghost. Not to mention that Kix already told me about the concussion, sleep deprivation, and the spores you inhaled. You _will_ get that gash on your arm treated, _right now_ , and then you _will_ go home and get some sleep. That's an order. Understood?"

Bant's expression softened, just for a moment. "Don't worry, Anakin. If anything about Master Kenobi's condition changes, I'll let you know immediately. I promise."

* * *

For perhaps the first time in his life, Anakin actually did follow the Healer's orders. Technically. After one of the other Healers treated his injured arm, Anakin _did_ go home. Just not the home Bant meant.

Padme opened the door, her eyes lighting up with joy and relief. " _Anakin…!_ "

The sunset, barely visible from the apartment windows, cast a dim halo around Padme. The sight brought him a sense of ease. Anakin smiled and wrapped his healthy arm around his beloved wife. "I missed you so much, Padme."

Padme gasped, pulling away a little. "Ani, you're hurt. What happened…?"

Anakin chuckled. "It's nothing. Just a small unfriendly reminder to work on my lightsaber form. I'm all right. Really."

Something was wrong. He could feel Padme trembling in his arms. And her Force presence… something about it felt different. It was brighter, stronger. Like a binary star.

"Padme… are you all right? You're trembling. What's going on?"

Padme looked at him, a mix of conflicting emotions on her face. Worry, joy, excitement, fear, and a million other things.

"Something wonderful has happened. Ani… I'm pregnant."

* * *

Anakin lay in their bed in Padme's apartment, staring out of the window at the never-sleeping city, with his beloved wife curled up in his arms. He was tired, bone tired, but his mind wouldn't let him sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, memories swirled around his mind. Palpatine's kind face turned into a monstrous snarl, while his red-yellow eyes stared into Anakin's very soul. A purple lightsaber viciously sliced through Master Windu's chest, amidst a surge of lightning. An ashen Obi-Wan made small, desperate gasps for breath as he lay unresponsive on a white bed. Anakin had to fight tears at the last memory.

Bant had said that Obi-Wan was getting better, but it didn't look that way. It didn't feel that way, either. His presence in the Force was frighteningly weak. Could she be wrong?

"He's going to be all right, Ani," Padme murmured gently, stroking his hair. "Master Kenobi has survived much worse things than this."

"I know," Anakin mumbled absent-mindedly, desperately trying to convince himself to believe her. But he was failing.

"A boy or a girl?" Anakin asked, trying to steer his thoughts to something less painful.

"I don't know yet. I asked the medical droids to keep it a surprise. We'll know in just a few weeks. But I already know what we could name him, or her. If it's a boy, we could call him Luke. If it's a girl, Leia. What do you think?"

Anakin smiled. "I like that. Both of them. How did you come up with the names?"

Padme smiled, too. "They're words from two very old languages. They both mean 'light'."

* * *

_Anakin's dreams that night were a chaotic, terrifying mess. A jumbled mix of traumatic memories, weaving and blurring together in nonsensical ways._

_He was running through the hallways of Gunray's fortress, desperately trying to outrun a cloud of white mist which was quickly filling the hallways like an avalanche. But his limbs could only move in slow motion, as if he was trying to run underwater. Anakin desperately tried to run faster, but he couldn't. He screamed in terror as he tripped and fell, and the opaque whiteness engulfed him._

_Nute Gunray's cruel laugh echoed in his ears. "You were too late, Jedi. Your friend is going to die. Search your feelings. You know it to be true."_

_"No," Anakin whispered, but Gunray only kept laughing._

_The laugh became deeper and cackling, and then it wasn't Gunray laughing anymore, it was Sidious. Anakin was suddenly standing in the Chancellor's office. Darth Sidious slowly walked towards him, a red lightsaber blazing in his hand. His yellow eyes burned with cold hatred._

_Anakin's comlink started ringing. It sounded very close, it had to be somewhere on his belt. Anakin blindly fumbled for it with his left hand while slowly backing away, not daring to lower his blade or tear his gaze away from Sidious._

_He frantically searched through all three pouches on his belt, finding all sorts of other things—some credits, a small ration bar, his rebreather and some other random stuff he couldn't identify by touch—but the comlink wasn't there._

_Darth Sidious gave him a malicious grin and shot blinding lightning out of his fingertips. Anakin lifted his lightsaber to block, but the blade faltered and the lightning hit him square in the chest. Anakin screamed in pain and stumbled backwards, the lightsaber falling out of his hand. It fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces, as if it was made of fragile glass._

_ Suddenly, someone behind him grabbed his arm, so hard it hurt. Anakin whirled around to see Padme standing there, with a strange expression on her face. She was holding something in her hand. It was his comlink, still ringing. Her lips moved, but there was no sound. Anakin couldn't really read lips, but the two words were simple enough to understand even for him. _

_ Wake up... _

_ And then, something… a sudden, fleeting sense of déjà vu. A half-forgotten memory, too old and faded to quite recall. A planet covered in oceans, and a vague sense of dread, as if there was some kind of a bad memory associated with it. _

_But as Anakin tried to follow that quickly fraying thread, the fading image of an ocean planet and the vague feeling of wrongness, the thread tore in half and the other end disappeared into darkness._ _The memory was gone._

Anakin woke up, his face wet with tears.

His wife's apartment was almost completely dark, only illuminated by the lights of passing vehicles behind the wide window. Padme was sitting up in the bed next to him, holding his ringing comlink in her hand. Her other hand was clutching Anakin's arm, as if she had been trying to shake him awake for a while.

"Ani, wake up," Padme repeated. "Your comlink's ringing."

"Thanks," Anakin mumbled, rubbing his eyes, and took the comlink from her hand. "Where was it?"

Padme gave him a confused look. "In a pocket on your belt. Isn't that where you usually keep it?"

She pointed at his belt which was sitting on a chair, on top of a messy pile of his clothes. Right now, Anakin was wearing the set of sleeping tunics he always kept in Padme's apartment.

"Yes, it is," Anakin said. He shook his head, trying to wake himself up completely. He glanced at the chrono on the wall. 2 AM. He'd only been asleep for a few hours.

 _Oh, no. Oh, no._ If someone was calling him at _this_ time, it could only mean…

Anakin moved to another room, closed the door behind him and picked up the call. Sure enough, it was Bant. And… she looked…

She looked close to tears.

"Anakin," she said, her voice trembling. "I am _so_ sorry. Please come here as soon as you can. Master Kenobi's condition got worse. A _lot_ worse. Anakin… I'm so sorry, but… he's not going to make it."

For a few seconds, Anakin stood completely frozen, his brain refusing to comprehend the full meaning of her words.

"What… what do you mean that _he's not going to make it?_ " Anakin finally managed to whisper. "You told me that he was going to be fine…"

"I never said that. All I said was that—"

"Fine, you didn't _say_ it, but you sure as hell implied it!" Anakin hissed, his shock and grief turning into anger. "Why would you do that? What the kriff is _wrong with you?!"_

Bant looked genuinely sorry.

"Anakin… we really thought that he _was_ recovering, for a few hours. But that was when his body still had the strength to fight. Now it doesn't. The human body… it's not a machine. There is no way to really know what it can push through, and what it cannot. All we can do is make an educated guess. But that guess is not always correct. I'm _so_ sorry, Anakin. Please come as soon as you can. I don't know how much time he has left."

 _No,_ Anakin thought desperately. _That can't be right._ She had to be wrong, somehow. This couldn't be happening.

Anakin reached out through the Force, searching for Obi-Wan's presence. He found it, still there, but so weak and faint that he could barely sense it. It was no more than just the faintest spark of flickering light, threatening to go out at any moment. Bant was right. Every word she said was right.

Anakin nodded. "I'm on my way." His hands were shaking so badly that it took him several tries to press the button to end the call.

Anakin turned around to see Padme standing in the now open door, her eyes wide in horror. From her expression, Anakin could immediately tell that she had heard most of the conversation.

"Oh, Anakin," she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. "I'm _so_ sorry…"

"I have to go," Anakin mumbled, avoiding her eyes. He threw on his clothes as fast as he could, and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clear things up, Palps is really dead. He’s not doing anything evil to Obi-Wan, and he’s not coming back.
> 
> Please read & review! :)


	5. The Butterfly Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much pure angst. But also something else happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is going to be sad as hell, and a large part of it will be Anakin sitting at Obi-Wan’s bedside and waiting for the inevitable. So… yeah. Read at your own risk :)
> 
> Beta’s note: Read while listening to “Schindler’s List Theme” for maximum effect

_„It has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world.”_

_— The Butterfly Effect, the movie_

* * *

Anakin stood in Bant’s small office, shaking his head desperately. “But, Master Eerin… you’re… you’re a _Jedi_ . A Healer. One of the best in the Order. There must be _something_ you can do. Or one of the others…”

Bant’s large silver eyes were full of sorrow and quiet understanding. She had seen this so many times before in her long career as a Healer. Denial. And a desperate hope for something that just wasn’t going to happen.

“Anakin… we already _did_. We tried everything we could. We tried to use the Force, and all sorts of medications. But nothing worked. I’m so sorry. I know how hard you tried to save him. I heard about your trick with the rebreather. Absolutely brilliant. But…” Bant let out a long, sad sigh. “I’m afraid that it was already too late at that point. It only delayed the inevitable.”

A few more tears slowly rolled down Anakin’s cheeks. He quickly wiped them off with his sleeve, but more kept falling.

“It’s my fault,” Anakin whispered quietly. “I…”

“Stop this,” Bant barked out, her voice turning from gentle to very harsh in the blink of an eye. “It’s _not_ your fault, Anakin. You did everything you could. If it weren’t for you, Master Kenobi wouldn’t have survived even this long. He would have died on that wretched planet. Don’t you _dare_ to blame yourself for this.”

Anakin disagreed, but he knew that there was no point in trying to argue with her. A single radio call would have prevented all of this. A call he didn’t make.

“How… how long does he have left?” Anakin whispered in a shaky voice.

“A couple hours, at most. I’m sorry,” Bant said.

The expression on Skywalker’s face broke her heart. Even after many decades of experience, this part of her job never got any easier. Not to mention that Obi-Wan was of _her_ dearest friends, too. They were in the same clan as Initiates. They grew up together.

“You should stay by his side, Anakin,” Bant continued gently “Hold his hand. Say your goodbyes. He won’t be able to hear you or know that you’re there, but at least you’ll have a chance to say goodbye. That’s more than most Jedi get.”

* * *

This late at night, the Healer’s Ward was quiet as a tomb. The wide hallways were completely deserted, the lights dimmed to half brightness. Anakin stopped in front of the door to Obi-Wan’s room, hesitating for a moment. He took a deep, shaky breath, and walked in.

At the first glance, not much had changed since the last time Anakin was there. All of the machines, tubes and wires were still exactly where they were before. His former Master was lying unnaturally still, his eyes closed.

The only sign of life were his small gasps for breath. The breathing tube in his mouth was the only thing still keeping him alive. Without the high concentration of oxygen, Anakin suspected that he wouldn’t survive for more than a few minutes.

But as Anakin slowly stepped closer and sat down next to him, he could see and feel that not everything was quite the same. The numbers on the monitors had changed a bit. They were worse. Obi-Wan’s lips and fingernails were visibly more blue than before. He looked as bad as he did on Cato Neimoidia _before_ Anakin thought about the trick with the rebreather.

And when Anakin gently placed his fingers on his former Master’s chest—very, very lightly, careful to not impede his already labored breathing—he could feel that his tiny gasps for air were even shallower and more desperate than before. Each small breath seemed to cost him an enormous effort. And Anakin could feel a faint rattle in his lungs that hadn’t been present before. _Oh, Force._

Until now, some small part of Anakin had been still hoping that Bant was wrong. Somehow. That with a bit of luck, his former Master could still somehow survive this. Obi-Wan was tough. In the past, he had survived several injuries that would have killed almost anyone else.

But now, as Anakin could see how much his condition had deteriorated in just a few hours, and as he felt his friend’s Force presence grow a tiny bit weaker with each small breath he took…

There was no denying it. Bant was right after all. There was no hope of him surviving this. Not now. The damage was just too severe.

Anakin gently grabbed his former Master’s hand. His fingers felt freezing cold, even though he was covered with two lightweight but warm blankets.

“I’m here, Master,” Anakin said quietly, even though he knew that Obi-Wan wasn’t going to hear anything he said.

“I’m here. You’re not alone. Bant tried to call Quinlan, Garen, and Reeft, so they could see you, but they’re all off-planet. I’m sorry. So it’s just me here, I’m afraid. I’m going to stay with you, all right? Until—” Anakin’s voice broke. “Until the end. I promise.”

There was no response. Not that Anakin expected one. Bant had already explained to him that it was physically impossible to regain any level of consciousness with oxygen levels that low. Obi-Wan couldn’t hear him, feel anything, or be aware of anything at this point.

It was better for him that way, really. He was basically slowly suffocating. No one should be conscious for _that_. And Bant said that he would most likely keep clinging to life for another hour or two before his body finally gave up. It was a slow, horrible way to go.

With a heavy sigh, Anakin blinked tears that threatened to start falling and carefully placed his head on his former Master’s shoulder. Anakin wrapped his arm around him in a sort of a half-hug, very careful to not impede his breathing in any way, and he could no longer stop the tears from coming.

It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

Anakin’s comlink rang. It was Padmé.

Anakin hesitated before picking it up. He didn’t really feel like talking to anyone right now, not even his wife. But he forced himself to accept the call, in case she genuinely needed something. Her due date was still over three weeks from now, but you never knew.

“How is he doing?” Padmé asked quietly.

Anakin sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Not well, Padmé. Master Eerin was right, I’m afraid. There’s nothing they can do at this point. He’s got only a few hours left. If that.”

Anakin held his comlink close to his body, to make sure the hologram showed only him. He didn’t want Padmé to see Obi-Wan. It wasn’t a pretty sight, with all of the machines, tubes and wires, and with him visibly struggling for every breath. Anakin knew that he was going to have nightmares about this for the rest of his life. There was no need to inflict that on her, too.

Padmé’s eyes looked so sad. “Oh, Force, Anakin, I’m so sorry…”

She hesitated for a moment. “Ani… can I come to the Temple? You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

There was no point in keeping their marriage secret any longer, not when their child was going to be born in less than a month. But Anakin shook his head. “No, Padmé. You wouldn’t be able to get into the Temple anyway. The Gate Masters wouldn’t let you in.”

Maybe they would, if Bant asked them nicely, but… no. He really didn’t want Padmé to have to see this. Anakin had spent the last three years on a battlefield; he was used to seeing horrible injuries and death. But Padmé was not. It was his duty to protect her, at least from what he could.

“All right,” Padmé said gently. “But if you change your mind, just give me a call.”

Anakin nodded, and the call ended.

Before Anakin could put the comlink back into his pocket, he noticed something else. An icon that showed him that he had an unopened video message. According to the timestamp, it was sent almost two days ago, while him and Obi-Wan were still en route to Cato Neimoidia. How did he not notice the message until now?

Anakin tapped the _Play Message_ button, his hands shaking so badly that he missed it the first time. Somehow, he had a bad feeling about this, even though he had no idea how the situation could possibly be even worse.

Anakin’s breath caught in his throat as a small hologram of his former Master appeared above the comlink—still alive and unhurt, sitting in his quarters on the cruiser. Yes, this was definitely recorded while they were flying to Cato Neimoidia.

Obi-Wan adjusted the camera and remained silent for a moment, as if he didn’t know how to begin.

 _“All right,”_ he said finally. _“The strategy meeting begins in about fifteen minutes, so I don’t have much time to waste. Anakin, I’m recording this message for you, and you alone. I will send it to you with a delay of a day or two, just in case.”_

Well, that explained why the message hadn’t arrived until now. But why would Obi-Wan send him a recorded message in the first place, instead of just talking to Anakin himself? They were on the same cruiser. And why the delay?

_“Anakin, I know that this is going to sound strange, but… tonight, I had a vision. I’ve never had one before, so I knew that it had to be something important. And it was. I saw the two of us walking to the cruiser and leaving Cato Neimoidia. And then, I saw… terrible things. I saw the Temple burning, and… there were bodies on the floor. Some of them… some of them looked like children._

_“I saw a hooded man sitting on a black throne, and felt the entire galaxy tremble in fear of his rule. I couldn’t see his face, but the darkness radiating from him was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I think it was him. Darth Sidious.”_

Obi-Wan’s eyes carried a haunted quality to them, as if he were remembering an unspeakable evil. The bags beneath his eyes seemed more pronounced than ever, as if he carried the weight of the universe on his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it slightly and giving him an air of exhaustion.

 _“I saw a_ planet _explode, Anakin, an entire_ planet _. I felt everyone on that planet die. Millions of lives, extinguished in less than a second. I saw Senator Amidala lying in a casket decorated with white flowers. And… I saw you. You were standing on a volcanic planet, completely alone, and… you were crying. Maybe it was just the light, but your eyes… they looked yellow.”_

Obi-Wan covered his face with a trembling hand. He had to pause for a moment to compose himself before continuing.

_“Then… I saw a young man and a woman. They were in pain, terrible pain. The woman was being tortured, and the man was crying out in agony and holding the stump of his severed hand. They both looked a bit like you, and… in the Force, they felt like you, too. I think they were your children.”_

Obi-Wan had to pause again. The shaking was even worse now.

 _“But then I saw something else. Another possible future. I saw myself lying on the floor of a room filled with swirling white mist. I was either dead or dying, I don’t know. But after that, I only saw a blur of indistinct shapes and colors, nothing more. I instantly knew what the Force was trying to tell me. That the other future was not set in stone yet. I didn’t know if it would be better or even worse than the first one, but it would be_ different _.”_

Anakin stared at the holorecording, frozen in wordless horror. A part of him was slowly beginning to realize where this was going.

_“Anakin, I’m so sorry. But I cannot let the things I saw come true. When I was a Padawan, Qui-Gon sometimes used to say that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon on the other side of the planet. Sometimes, even the smallest change can have consequences far beyond anything we can possibly imagine. Now I have a chance to make that small change.”_

Obi-Wan had an indescribable expression on his face, one that always filled Anakin with dread, usually when he planned something Anakin wasn’t going to like.

_“I don’t know if I’m going to survive this mission, but if I don’t, please don’t blame yourself for my death. Since this is Cato Neimoidia, I think I already know what that white mist could be. There’s a fungus which grows on this planet, which has toxic spores. I think that’s what I saw.”_

“No,” Anakin whispered shakily, as if he could somehow change that had already happened. “No, please don’t...”

_“I’m going to volunteer to cause a diversion, to make sure you can’t stop me from doing what needs to be done. I’m going to drop my rebreather when you’re not watching, to make sure I’m not tempted to use it, and I’ll try to get separated from my troops as soon as I can. I’m so sorry for keeping this from you, Anakin. But I know that you would never agree to this.”_

A horrible, heart-wrenching sob tore itself out of Anakin’s throat as the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

The destroyed control panel on the door in the room with the spores was no accident. Obi-Wan must have intentionally deflected a blaster bolt into the control panel to get separated from the clones. Perhaps he even deflected a few bolts into the containers to ensure that his plan worked out.

And that was why Anakin remembered Cody saying that the diversion team was planning to head to a different part of the fortress, not to the shipping area. That must have been a part of Obi-Wan’s plan, too.

What happened on Cato Neimoidia was no accident. It was a sacrifice.

The recording was almost at its end.

Obi-Wan turned his head to the side for a moment, as if he could hear or feel something Anakin could not, and then he smiled faintly.

_“Oh. I think I can sense you approaching, probably to remind me that the strategy meeting is about to begin. I’m sorry, Anakin, I have to go. I hope this works, and that the other future is better than the first one, at least a little. I hope I’m not throwing my life away for nothing. But if this saves even a single life, then it’s all worth it._

_“Anakin, I’m so sorry for what I have to do to you. I wish we had more time left together. I hope you know how grateful I am that the Force chose to bring you into my path thirteen years ago. I couldn’t have wished for a better student—or a better friend. I pray that you’ll be able to forgive me one day. And… I hope we’ll see each other again. But if we don’t… I guess that this is goodbye. May the Force be with you.”_

There was a knock on the door. Obi-Wan gave the camera a small, sad smile, and turned it off.

The hologram flickered and disappeared. The recording had reached its end.

For a few minutes, Anakin just sat clutching the comlink in his trembling hands and sobbing uncontrollably. When he finally managed to regain some semblance of control over himself, he very carefully saved the holomessage and created two backups on different servers. He didn’t want it to accidentally get deleted.

“It worked,” Anakin whispered, his heart breaking.

“Master, your plan _worked_ . Without your sacrifice, I wouldn’t have threatened Gunray, and he wouldn’t have betrayed Sidious fast enough. And if I didn’t have your lightsaber with me when I fought him, he would have killed me. It _worked_ . You did it. You _saved_ me. You saved Padmé, the children, all of the Jedi, all of those millions of people that would have died on that planet… you saved _everyone_.”

But, of course, there was no reaction. Obi-Wan couldn’t hear him. He didn’t even know that Anakin was there.

He was going to die without even knowing that his sacrifice had worked. Without knowing that Darth Sidious was already defeated, and that the war could very well be ending soon.

Master Yoda’s fleet still hadn’t reached Utapau, since the planet was located all the way out in the Outer Rim, almost at the very edge of the known galaxy. But the fleet was on its way. If Master Yoda’s forces managed to capture or kill Grievous and the Separatist Council, the war would be over in days, perhaps even hours.

Yes, Count Dooku was still somewhere out there, but he was only one man. He wouldn’t be able to keep the war going all by himself. And with all of his former allies dead or imprisoned, it would only be a matter of time before Dooku himself was captured or killed as well.

Anakin refocused his attention on Obi-Wan and shoved the comlink back into a pocket on his belt. He pulled his chair closer to the bed and gave Obi-Wan’s hand a comforting squeeze, just in case he could somehow still feel it, even though Anakin knew that it was impossible.

As Anakin’s vision began to blur, he bent his head down and squeezed his eyelids shut in a futile attempt to stop the forming tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! :(
> 
> Note: I HAVE CHANGED THE DREAM SEQUENCE IN CHAPTER 4 A LITTLE!! It’s not a big change, but it’s an important one.
> 
> Hint: The end of the dream references something mentioned in the ROTS book, but not in the movie. Don’t worry, it will be revealed eventually!


	6. Shattered Glass and Broken Threads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the first chapter of this story was inspired by a single line from the ROTS movie, this chapter was kind of inspired by a single line from the ROTS book by Matthew Stover. Don’t worry; as always, no knowledge of the book is needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the delay! I was busy, and also had a minor case of writer’s block. Why is writing so hard :( But I’m back now, and here's a long chapter to make up for it!
> 
> Warning: The warning from the last chapter is still in effect. Oh, there’s going to be so much angst...

Three hours later, Obi-Wan was still alive, even though his condition was getting noticeably worse. Anakin doubted he was going to last another hour.

Logically, Anakin knew that his former Master couldn’t feel any discomfort or pain. It was a fairly peaceful way to go, all things considered. From Obi-Wan’s point of view, he just fainted in Anakin’s arms in Gunray’s palace, and he simply never woke up again.

But that didn’t make this any less painful to watch.

While Obi-Wan’s mind wasn’t aware of anything that was happening to him, his body knew that he was dying, and it was fighting tooth and nail against it. His heart was beating twice faster than normal and his body was making tiny, desperate gasps for air in a futile attempt to get some oxygen. His mouth would sometimes open and close slightly, and he would occasionally weakly tilt his head back or roll it from side to side, as if he was trying to get away from whatever was preventing him from breathing.

Bant had explained that all of those movements were just a reflex, not a conscious action, but it didn’t make it any less heartbreaking to watch.

It was ironic. Only about ten hours ago, Anakin had been sitting at his side, holding his hand and quietly pleading for him to not give up. Now, he was wishing for the opposite. Nobody deserved to go in such a slow and awful way. Anakin just wanted it to be finally over.

“You can let go now, Master,” Anakin said quietly, stroking his hair. “You… you don’t have to keep fighting. I’ll be all right, I promise. Don’t worry about me. Padmé will take care of me. You can go now. It’s all right. You can let go.”

The door opened and Bant Eerin walked in, carrying a cup of hot, fragrant tea. She handed it to Anakin, who accepted it gratefully. He wasn’t sure if he would be actually able to keep it down, but he appreciated the kind gesture.

Somehow, Anakin found the strength to give her a weak smile. “Thank you, Master Eerin.”

Bant lightly placed her webbed hand on Obi-Wan’s chest, using the Force to check on his condition. Her silver eyes clouded with sadness.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Obi,” she murmured. She gently adjusted the tube in his mouth and tilted his head to a more comfortable position, but there was nothing else she could do.

Anakin gave her a pleading look. “Bant, please, are you sure there isn’t any way to make his breathing a bit easier? This just hurts to watch...”

Bant shook her head sadly. “There’s not. I’m sorry.”

She hesitated for a moment, and then sat down in the other chair and sighed.

“Look, Anakin… I didn’t say this earlier, because it’s going to sound awful. But there is a way to make things easier for him. The extra oxygen flowing through that tube is the only thing keeping him alive right now. Without it, it would be over in just a minute or two.”

Anakin stared at her. “What are you implying?”

Bant gave him a sad, sympathetic look. “What I’m saying is that at this point, we’re just prolonging the inevitable. If you want to make things easier for him, you can disconnect that tube when you’re ready. You don’t have to, of course. It’s up to you. He’s not going to feel anything either way.”

Anakin stared at her, absolutely horrified.

“No,” he whispered shakily. “I can’t. I _won’t._ ”

“I understand. I just wanted you to know that it’s an option.”

Anakin nodded. What she suggested was horrible, unthinkable, but he knew that she had only meant well.

Bant gently squeezed Anakin’s shoulder, and stood up. “I’m terribly sorry, Anakin, but I have to go. I have many other patients to attend to. There’s no one available to switch shifts with. This war has all Healers stretched very thin, almost to the breaking point.”

“Of course. I understand, Master Eerin.”

She gave him an apologetic look and left.

* * *

Anakin cast a guilty glance at the breathing tube. When Bant first suggested this, his instinctive answer had been a resolute, horrified no. But perhaps she was right. Perhaps it would be kinder to make this quick. It was cruel to force his former Master to go through this for so many hours, when there was no hope of recovery. It was _wrong_.

Anakin smoothed Obi-Wan’s blankets and hospital gown, wiped his hair away from his face, and tenderly folded his hands over his stomach. Aside from the weak gasps for air, he looked almost at peace.

Anakin almost laughed tearfully when he realized that he _still_ had his former Master’s lightsaber clipped to his belt. How stupid. Anakin had a very quick shower and changed into clean tunics before he went to Padmé’s place yesterday, but he completely forgot about the lightsaber.

Anakin traced his fingers along the elegant hilt of the weapon that had slain the devil himself. _You would be proud, Master._

It was strangely fitting. Thirteen years ago, Obi-Wan also defeated Maul with a lightsaber that belonged to his dying Master.

“All right,” Anakin said shakily, wiping the tears that started falling again with a vengeance. “I won’t force you to go through this any longer.”

He squeezed Obi-Wan’s cold hand and pressed a gentle kiss against his pale forehead. “Goodbye, Master. And…” Anakin’s voice broke again. “And thank you. For everything.”

Anakin slowly reached for the breathing tube to disconnect it, and…

He pulled his hand back.

“I can’t,” Anakin whispered, his voice shaking. “I can’t. Just… five more minutes, all right? And then I’ll let you go. I promise.”

Anakin was well aware of the fact that this wasn’t going to become any easier in five minutes. But that was a problem for his five minutes older self.

He gently wrapped his arms around his former Master’s still body and pulled him close, cradling him in his arms. Despite Anakin’s best efforts, the movement made one of the wires snag the almost empty cup of tea and send it crashing to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. Kriff.

The sound of shattering glass reminded Anakin of another very painful memory, of a mission from many years ago.

_It was a diplomatic mission to a planet called Ando, although Anakin could no longer remember what exactly they were sent to do there. Most likely to oversee some important negotiations or something boring like that. All he remembered was that the mission was a success, and the planet’s Prime Minister threw a giant banquet to celebrate._

_One moment, everything was fine. Everyone was drinking, eating, talking, and having a good time. One of the guests sitting nearby happened to share Anakin’s passion for technology and spaceships, and they were soon engrossed in a lively discussion about the newest upgrades to the Delta-7 Aethersprite-class light interceptor, while gorging themselves on the delectable food on the table._

_Next to him, Obi-Wan_ — _who was still his Master at the time, since that mission happened many years ago_ — _was discussing something politics-related and boring with two Aqualish ambassadors. Anakin was very glad that he didn’t have to take part in that conversation._

_The Prime Minister proposed a toast for the successful outcome of the mission. Some kind of a traditional local drink, surprisingly delicious for being mostly seaweed-based. Everybody drank, sat back down, and the conversations resumed._

_Anakin was just describing the changes to the Delta-7 wing when he froze mid-sentence. Something wasn’t right, he could sense it._

_Someone behind Anakin grabbed his arm, so hard it hurt. He whirled around to see Obi-Wan standing there, staring at him with a strange expression on his face. It took Anakin a second to realize that it was a look of absolute fear. The half-empty crystal glass slipped out of his hand and shattered into a thousand pieces on the floor._

_His lips moved, but no sound or air came out. Anakin couldn't really read lips, but the two words were simple enough to understand even for him._

_Help me._

This was it. Oh, Force, this was it. The vague bad memory Anakin couldn’t recall earlier.

_Obi-Wan tried to speak again, but Anakin didn’t catch it this time. Judging from Obi-Wan’s terrified wide-eyed expression and the way he was clutching his chest, it was most likely something along the lines of ‘I can’t breathe’._

_The room erupted into a total pandemonium. Everyone assumed that he had been poisoned, and that they could be next. At least a dozen people were trying to stick their fingers down their throats in an attempt to throw up._

_Obi-Wan’s knees buckled, and Anakin just barely managed to catch him as he collapsed. Anakin screamed for help and reached into the Force, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He wasn’t choking on anything, Anakin could sense that. But his throat had completely closed up, not letting even the tiniest bit of air through. It must have been somehow caused by that kriffing drink._

_It took several horrifying minutes before the medics arrived. Anakin could do nothing but wait helplessly and say useless stuff like ‘they’re almost here’ as his Master’s struggles for air became more and more frantic. He was pulling at Anakin’s sleeves, his eyes wide in absolute terror, and he kept trying to speak, but he couldn’t._

_Anakin recognized the phrase ‘help me’ a few more times, and also something that looked like ‘please don’t let me die’, but he couldn’t understand anything else._

_The medics finally arrived, after what felt like an eternity. But it quickly became clear that nothing they tried to do was working. They tried several different medications for anaphylaxis and the most common neurotoxins, but it didn’t make any difference._

_Anakin remembered spotting the exact moment when Obi-Wan lost consciousness. His eyes stayed open, but the light went out of them. He stopped struggling and went unnaturally still. The hand which had been gripping Anakin’s wrist slowly let go._

_He remembered three of the four medics still trying everything they could to save his life, while the fourth one turned to Anakin and quietly explained that if this really was a poison, then there was very likely nothing they could do for him._

_But that mission had a happy ending. One of the medics made the incredibly lucky guess that perhaps it wasn’t a poison, but an extremely rare and severe allergic reaction to the hoi-broth drink. The usual allergy medications didn’t work on it, only a different medication which wasn’t normally used for humans, and certainly not for allergies. The medics luckily happened to have that stuff with them._

_The medic’s guess turned out to be correct. One small injection and a few minutes later, Obi-Wan was awake and mostly fine, although pretty shaken._

_He spent a few days in a hospital, he was told to never touch hoi-broth again and to carry an injector with that medication with him at all times. Anakin somehow managed to calm everyone down, explain that nobody has been poisoned and prevent this from escalating into an inter-system incident, and all was well._

But that was a different situation. This time, things weren’t going to have such a happy en—

Anakin’s heart stopped.

No, it seriously, genuinely stopped, at least that’s how it felt for a moment _._ At the very least, it definitely skipped a few beats.

What…

What _if_ …

Bant didn’t really know why Obi-Wan’s condition was getting worse instead of slowly improving. What if she was wrong? What if this was a combination of damage from the spores _and_ an allergic reaction to them? Bant would have no way to guess that. The only symptom, the inability to breathe, could be easily misattributed to the damage from the spores.

What if _that_ was why Anakin had seen that memory in his nightmares?

With his fingers shaking uncontrollably, Anakin reached into his pockets and hurriedly pulled out everything that was in them. A few credits, a small ration bar, his rebreather, his comlink, two emergency painkiller injections, some other random junk, and a small injector with the allergy medication. Anakin always carried one with him as well, just in case Obi-Wan’s got lost or broken.

Just like now. Obi-Wan was dressed in a white hospital gown, not in his usual Jedi robes. Anakin had absolutely no idea where his tunics and belt were. Probably still in a locker on the cruiser.

Anakin hesitated for half a second, considering calling Bant and telling her about his new idea, but… no. There was no time for that. Obi-Wan’s heart could stop at any moment, and if that happened, it would be game over. Anakin would never forgive himself if that happened. He flung the blankets aside, pressed the injector against Obi-Wan’s thigh as the instructions said, and pushed the plunger.

Now he could only wait.

How long did that stuff take to work the first time, on Ando? It started working quite quickly, Anakin remembered that. About fifteen seconds, definitely no more than twenty.

Anakin silently counted the seconds, praying this worked.

Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty…

Nothing was happening. _Perhaps it just needs a bit more time to work this time,_ Anakin thought desperately. _Please… Force, please let this work…_

Thirty seconds. Anakin gently touched his fingers to Obi-Wan’s chest, desperately feeling for a change in his breathing. But there was no change at all. His tiny gasps for breath were still as shallow and labored as before.

Forty seconds.

Nothing was happening. Anakin’s eyes desperately scanned the monitors, but not a single number was changing.

Fifty seconds. One minute.

One minute and a half.

Two minutes. And nothing happened at all.

It didn’t work. It was a solid guess, but it was wrong. With a bitter sigh, Anakin let the empty injector fall to the floor.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin whispered quietly, his heart breaking. “I just wanted to make sure I tried everything. I’d never forgive myself if I hadn’t. But it didn’t work. I’m so sorry.”

Anakin wrapped his arms tighter around him and rested his chin on top of Obi-Wan’s head, sobbing uncontrollably.

Was he just imagining it, or were his breaths just the tiniest bit deeper than before? Anakin glanced at the monitors and froze in shock.

No. He wasn’t imagining it. _Oh, Force..._

As he watched, the number measuring the oxygen percentage in his blood slowly started going up. Very sluggishly at first, just a few tenths of a percent. It slowly crawled up to 72%, then 73%, then 76%, and continued to increase, faster and faster.

Since Anakin was still holding his former Master in his arms, he could physically _feel_ each of his breaths become a little bit deeper than the one before it. And he could see the horrible blue tinge on his lips slowly fade away with each breath. Soon, it was gone completely.

In less than a minute, the blood oxygen reading settled at just below 92%, still a bit below normal, but pretty damn close. Obi-Wan was lying very still in his arms, still unconscious, but breathing normally for the first time since Anakin found him in the fortress.

The door flew open and Bant Eerin burst in, even though Anakin hadn’t pressed the call light yet. She must have sensed that something had changed.

This was the first time Anakin had ever seen her completely freeze up. She stopped in the doorway for a few seconds, her webbed hand flying to cover her mouth. But her training kicked in quickly. She hurriedly walked to Obi-Wan’s side and placed her hand on his forehead, closing her eyes in concentration for a moment.

“I can’t believe it,” Bant whispered, opening her eyes wide. “Almost all swelling is completely gone… Anakin, what did you _do_?”

Anakin shakily pointed at the empty injector on the floor. Bant picked it up and her eyes widened as she read the label and recognized what it was.

“That was it?!”

Anakin chuckled, a bit hysterically. “That was it.”

“How did you know that it would work?”

“I didn’t. It was just a guess,” Anakin said shakily. When he saw the baffled expression on Bant’s face, he explained a bit more. “I just remembered that about eight years ago, Obi-Wan had a very bad allergic reaction to hoi-broth on a mission to Ando. He couldn’t breathe. The normal allergy stuff didn’t work on it, only this. Isn’t it in his medical records?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Then someone must have forgotten to write it there. But it happened, I promise you. I was there. So, I just had an idea that maybe this could be a similar allergic reaction to the spores. And, well, it wasn’t like there was anything to lose at this point.”

Bant chuckled, and… were those tears glittering in her eyes? Anakin had never seen her lose her composure before. Ever.

“Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant,” Bant whispered. She sniffled and quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She gently touched Obi-Wan’s forehead again, listening to the Force. “I… I think he’s waking up. Anakin… you just saved his _life.._.”

Anakin stared at her, his eyes wide. “Really?”

Bant gave him a bright smile. “Really.”

She pulled Obi-Wan’s eyelids back and shone a bright flashlight into his eyes. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut and weakly tried to turn his head away from the light.

Bant chuckled. “Yes, he’s definitely waking up now. All right, I think we should take the breathing tube out before he wakes up completely. It’s really uncomfortable to have that thing stuck in your throat, trust me. He’s not going to like it.”

Anakin gave her a panicked look. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Bant’s expression softened. “Relax, Anakin. I know you’re worried. Now that the swelling’s gone, he’ll be able to breathe on his own again. And his lungs will heal faster if he can breathe by himself and cough out any remaining bits of the spores that might still be in there. All right?”

Anakin gave her a shaky nod.

“Very well,” Bant said. “Now, he’s really not going to like it when I pull this thing out. You’ll need to lay him on his left side and hold his hands down. And whatever you do, don’t let him roll over onto his back.”

Anakin did as he was told, grabbed Obi-Wan’s wrists and gripped his shoulder with the other. 

“Why not?” he asked.

Bant removed the tape which held the breathing tube in place and deflated the tiny balloon which stopped the air from flowing past it. She pulled the tube out of his throat with a quick, practiced motion. Obi-Wan instantly started dry heaving and coughing violently. A little bit of vomit came out as well.

Bant chuckled and wiped his mouth with a towel. “And that’s why.”

She slipped a breathing mask over Obi-Wan’s nose and mouth, placed her hand on his back and sent waves of calming Force energy through his body. The coughing and dry heaving gradually stopped. Bant gently stroked his hair. “Obi, can you hear me? Try to open your eyes, if you can, or at least squeeze my hand.”

Obi-Wan stirred and his blue-green eyes slowly opened, looking around in semi-conscious confusion. Bant smiled at him, blinking back tears. “Hey, Obi. It’s me. Relax, you’re safe. You’re on Coruscant, in the Temple. Everything’s all right now.”

Obi-Wan didn’t respond, he just blinked slowly, his eyes unfocused. He still seemed to be completely out of it. Then his eyes rolled back into his head and drifted closed. They didn’t open again.

“No…!” Anakin gasped, horrified. He shook Obi-Wan’s shoulders, but there was no response. He was still breathing, but his body was as limp and still as a ragdoll. His eyes remained closed.

Bant gave Anakin’s shoulder a firm, comforting squeeze. “Anakin, calm down. This is not a turn for the worse. He’s exhausted. I’m surprised he had the energy to open his eyes at all. Let him sleep for now.”

Seeing that Anakin wasn’t very reassured, Bant took his hand and gently laid it on Obi-Wan’s chest. “Feel it? His breathing is stronger now. He just needs to rest.”

She let go of Anakin’s hand and sighed. “I’m going to go find some more of that allergy medication, since that small injector you used is only good for about thirty minutes. I’ll be back in a few minutes, all right?”

Anakin nodded. Bant walked out of the room, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, and closed the door behind her.

Anakin gave Obi-Wan’s still hand a comforting squeeze, noticing with dismay that he was absolutely freezing. Well, almost dying tended to do that to a person. Anakin carefully draped two more blankets over him.

Obi-Wan stirred and dragged his eyes open, noticing Anakin’s presence for the first time. He blinked slowly, looking completely disoriented, confused and… scared.

“What… happened?” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice so weak that Anakin could barely decipher what he said. “Why do you… look so sad?”

He coughed a few times. It sounded terrible.

It took all of Anakin’s self-control to stop himself from bawling like a little kid. “You… you almost died, that’s what happened. You have no idea how close you came to… you have no idea what you went through… oh, Force…”

Anakin lost the battle. Despite his best efforts, tears started rolling down his cheeks uncontrollably. Anakin’s heart broke into pieces as his former Master gently touched his tear-stained cheek, and shook his head slightly. He didn’t say anything—he probably didn’t have the strength left for any more talking—but the meaning behind the gesture was clear. _Don’t cry. It’s all right._

Which only made the crying worse. Oh, Force, this was all wrong. Obi-Wan was the one who almost died. He had gone through such horrible things in the past twenty-four hours. Anakin should be the one comforting _him_. But that didn’t seem to be happening, since Anakin couldn’t speak through the lump in his throat. Instead, he could only wrap his arms around Obi-Wan, very careful to not impede his breathing or press on any of the cracked ribs, and rub his back comfortingly.

“Is that all right?” Anakin fretted. “I’m not hurting you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan whispered. He weakly wrapped one arm around Anakin, returning the gesture. “I’m… fine, just… cold. But you’re... helping with that.” Anakin couldn’t see his face, but he could tell he was smiling.

Anakin wiped his tears with his sleeve and placed his head on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, staring at the star-covered sky behind the window. On the horizon, a thin strip of lighter blue signified the approach of a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see that coming? :)
> 
> This chapter was inspired by an incident that was very briefly mentioned in the ROTS novel by Matthew Stover. Here’s the excerpt in all its glory:
> 
> “The apartment's air still hummed with discord and worry and there was a smell of oxidized spices and boiled seaweed.  
> Hoi-broth, that was it. Someone in the past few hours had been drinking hoi-broth in this room.  
> Padme hated hoi-broth.  
> And Obi-Wan was allergic to it—once on a diplomatic mission to Ando, his violent reaction to a ceremonial toast had nearly triggered an intersystem incident.”
> 
> Basically, I just took that, and took a bit of artistic licence with it :)
> 
> P.S. A short bit of news: I'm starting a new story called Heart of Darkness! Anakin, Obi-Wan and a certain Senator get sent on a seemingly easy mission to Subterrel, which is definitely not a carefully calculated part of Sidious’s plan… muhahahaha. As always, there's so much angst.


End file.
